


Until the End of Time

by Dualscar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Death, Drabble, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dualscar/pseuds/Dualscar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you can never really accept some people are gone. Sometimes you just need them, close to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the End of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Homestuck and all its characters belong to Andrew Hussie. I merely weave tales.

"It's all over the news, too..."

"So I've seen."

"One would think they'd show some respect for the people who have lost him! It's bad enough without having to see his name everywhere and his f-face..."

She was probably crying right now. I visualized the tears seeping out of her crinkled eyelids, her palms dabbing at her eyes and getting flour all over her face.

"Jane."

"Y-Yes. Excuse me for that, I lost my composure there. You know it's really hard for me." Her voice was small, broken. I waited for her to say the rest. "I imagine it would be harder for you, who knew him best, after all, who spent the most time with him..." There was an audible sniffle. "Excuse me," she repeated, turning around and hobbling away. I knew better than to follow her; she would probably spend another hour crying in the kitchen.

I turned on the television again, making sure the volume was down. His name sent a chill down my spine, like it had when I had first met him.

My fingers twitched, and threatened to go numb again. I'd been sitting immobile for a very long while. When I stood up, my legs felt like they would sink through the floor, like disembodied voices were tempting me to dissolve into the shadows.  _Living dead._

But I am Dirk Strider, and I never lose touch with my sanity.

My nerves were threatening to send waves of pain shooting up my shoulder - weak nerves were a by-product of improper computer ergonomics, I supposed, and I finally gave in, standing up and walking out of the room, the newsreader's monotone continuing on for an audience that wasn't there.

* * *

My eyes, when I opened them, were crusty, and my limbs were sore. I lay on my bed, unmoving, unfocused, for a few minutes, until the clouds drifted away and sunlight fell on my face. I ran tentative fingers over my forehead and felt the cold sheen of sweat. Apparently a nap hadn't done anything to relieve me of my fatigue.

 _Fatigue_. Even now I could hear Auto-Responder telling me I was losing touch with my sanity, exactly what I had vowed not to do. I turned my head slightly to the right, and I could see the softly flickering red of his electronic eyes judging me. Reminding me.  _Dirk._

The sunlight was my excuse to lift myself from the bed and subject myself to Jane's questions asking why my eyes were sunken and streaked with crimson. How could I tell her I had been crying in my dreams?

* * *

She asked me the questions as expected, but I suppose I was lucky that she understood I didn't want to talk about it. She did give me an extra pancake, though. And I didn't quite like having to throw it in the trash. I blamed it on my appetite, which had been pathetic lately.

My wrist was hurting again. Perhaps I had to get myself checked for carpal tunnel syndrome. I had been spending an unholy amount of time on my computer, and it seemingly had its own consequences. I couldn't help it. Auto-Responder had been malfunctioning lately, and I had to keep in touch with him somehow, as he was out on one more of his "adventures".

 _It doesn't help to reminisce, Dirk._  The voice of reason was cool and unruffled. And right. I pushed the thought away, and it joined the rest of them I had worked to abandon.

 _Frankly, this behavior is stupid, and entirely unnecessary_ , I reprimanded myself, as I slung the backpack over my shoulder. I had other, more pressing matters to deal with today. I clutched my board with a death grip, and felt sweat beading on my forehead again. I turned around and looked one last time at the towering machine I had constructed in my basement, and hesitantly switched it on. A huge rumbling and it whirred to life. I was pretty sure Jane thought it was an earthquake. The steady humming of smoothly oiled parts calmed me. I placed a hand on the glass adoringly, as any builder was wont to do with his prized creation. It was colder than I had expected it to be. No matter.

I had the sudden feeling my body temperature had dropped, and could feel my heart straining to break out of my ribcage. Until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I knew that hand.

The same chill went through my body, the one I had gotten when I had first met him. Behind me, the machine hummed merrily, and I set out on my very first adventure.

* * *

It was easier than I expected; apparently people expected great adventurers to have special forcefields around them that shielded their bodies from attack, even after they had ceased to live. Or maybe I had just been too clever for them. I had to admit, the weight was getting to me, and it was a relief when Roxy's van finally pulled up. She was late, at the wrong place, and had no idea what he needed the van for - clearly she was far too intoxicated, even for someone as herself, who had high alcohol tolerance. She must have been sad too, I supposed. Behind that easy-going facade was a woman with a large heart, and I was positive she was trying desperately to numb the pain.

She dropped me home. Jane wasn't there; she had probably gone shopping. And just as well. Lugging him down to the basement, where the machine was still peacefully rumbling on - shit, I forgot to switch it off, what a waste of power and efficiency - I slowly, carefully, unlocked the small door at the bottom of the machine, and pulled out a long metal tray that was inside the compartment. It smelled of chemicals. I undid the sack and gulped.  _Dirk_. I was fine. I had planned this out. Chills were starting to course down my spine again, but these were unwelcome.

Just to be safe, I decided to clean him up once more. Just so it would be perfect - he would be perfect. And I did that. It took me around a half hour before I was satisfied with my handiwork. To maintain his surprised expression as I dabbed at his face with cleaning chemicals wasn't too hard for someone as experienced with precision parts as I was.

I carried him in my arms. He was lighter than I expected. I laid him on the metal tray. He was calm. Didn't say a word. I smiled at him, and very gently kissed him on the lips. Lips I had always dreamt of meshing with mine, but never got around to. Until now. I pushed the metal tray in, drinking in every feature of him. I would have enough time to do that anyway...but I would never be this close to him. He smelled of pine trees, and I was pretty sure I was hallucinating.

Because he was dead.

The compartment closed. The rumbling increased, and something akin to a fan began to whirr. I waited, patiently, with bated breath. My hands were balled into fists.

it took a few minutes, but then, head first, torso following, came his body, floating in the transparent, viscous liquid. He looked exactly as he had when I saw him up close, but with a thin film of liquid encasing him, preserving him for eternity. Or at least as long as I lived and operated that machine.

I touched the glass. Soft blue light illuminated his flawless features.

"Jake."

He didn't say anything, but I was sure I heard a hushed whisper. The whisper of a man I was positive was standing next to me, lacing my fingers with his, kissing me gently on the cheek.  _Jake. Jake. Jake_. I rolled the name around my tongue. It was every bit as beautiful as the person who was called by it.

And I sighed, and his voice called to me from behind the glass. Chills went down my spine, even better than the ones I'd gotten when I first met him.  _What is it?_  I asked. There was silence.

No matter. I exhaled calmly.  _We have until the end of time, Jake. You can answer me later._  I kissed the glass, and I felt ghostly, warm lips kiss me back. And everything was alright as I looked up at him, floating in the liquid, wordlessly surprised at the long gone beast that had struck him dead, his little expression of awe the one thing I would never get tired of seeing up there. At least this way, he was with me. Forever.

 _I love you. You love me too, don't you?_  The lips never moved. No matter.

_We have until the end of time, Jake._

**Author's Note:**

> Bluh.


End file.
